Without You
by luv0817
Summary: WARNING: CD From the POV of Rachael, Sara and Gil's daughter, what happens when tragedy strikes their family. WARNING: Small self injury scene. This is dedicated to my friend who lost her mother at a very early age and is based on her experience.


Disclaimer: I do not own CSI its characters; I only own Rachael. _Without You_ is from _RENT_; music and lyrics by Jonathan Larson. I do not own _Creative Zen_, except for my own player.

….The mind churns!  
The heart yearns!  
The tears dry, without you. Life goes on, but I'm gone.  
Cause I die, without you…

xoxoxoxoxo

Watching him stand there, he looks somehow smaller. His eyes are closed and I can tell he's trying not to cry. Before my mom's death, I'd never seen my dad cry, even though my mom swore up and down that he cried when I was born. She always told me that we were the luckiest girls on earth to have him. He misses her more than anything else and my heart aches for him. I watch him lay a single rose on her coffin and mumble something. Knowing that no words can comfort him right now, instead I silently step up beside him and place my hand in his. He says nothing but squeezes my hand gently. Does he feel as numb as I do? _Why?_ I think silently. _Why did she have to die?_

One week earlier:

"Rachael, we're going to be late!" My mom's voice carried up the stairs.

"Mom, chill, I'm coming!" I yelled back. "Have you seen my ballet flats?" _I could've sworn that I put them beside my closet last night_.

"I have them down here, Rach." _Oh, that's right; I wore them out in the garage last night because Dad won't let me do experiments barefoot_.

"Thanks, Mom." I raced down the stairs, stopping just long enough to pull the shoes out of my mom's hand and plant a kiss on her cheek.

"I love you!" I heard her call.

"Love you too, Mom!" I said climbing into the car where my dad was waiting patiently. "Sorry, Daddy," I said, giving a pleading look. "I couldn't find my shoes." Glancing at the car clock, I shrieked, "Ah! I hate being late for school!"

"Settle, Rachael," Dad's tone was warning. "Did I or did I not tell you last week to make sure you have everything ready the night before?"

"No, Dad, you told me that last night; I just forgot."

"As usual," he teased.

"I was working on my experiment with the new chemistry set that Uncle Nick bought me. Lindsey said he bought one for her too when she was younger."

"That he did," Dad said with a laugh, "He stole that idea from me. Remember, no experiments while we're out of the house."

"Da-ad, don't you trust me?"

"With volatile chemicals, no. Alright, we'll see you sometime tomorrow morning, Kiddo," he stopped in front of the school.

"Okay, bye Dad," I said as I hopped out of the car. "See ya!" Running into the school building I just made it to class before the last bell rang.

"Have a seat, Miss Grissom," said Mr. Keiser pointedly as I took my assigned seat in the middle of the room.

xoxoxoxoxo

Coming in from school, I plopped my book bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out my books and folders; separating them by subject and arranging them from most boring to most fun. After getting an apple a glass of water, I settled in for an hour or so of homework. Slamming down my last book I ran out to the garage and put on all of her safety gear before I remembered that I wasn't allowed to experiment while alone in the house.

"This sucks," I said sulkily, removing each of the safety pieces. Walking back into the house with a sour attitude, I pulled out my laptop. As I turned it on, the phone started to ring; after the third ring, I picked up.

"Rachael, it's Dad."

"Duh," I said rolling my eyes. Either one or both of my parents always called around this time when they were at work. "No, I haven't been mixing any chemicals and yes my homework-"

"Rachael, listen to me," he interrupted me. His voice sounded different, something was very wrong.

"Dad?" I questioned, getting scared.

"I'm sending Uncle Jim over to get you. He should be there in a few minutes. Please be ready."

"Okay, Dad; what's going on?"

"I'll explain everything when you get here. Bye." _Click_, the phone shut off. Gathering my shoes and jacket, I waited impatiently by the window until I saw the squad car roll up. Locking the door behind me, I quickly jumped into the vehicle.

"What's going on, Uncle Jim?"

"You're mom's been taken to the hospital," he said bluntly.

"Why!" I started to panic. "What happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I was with Catherine when your dad called and asked me to pick you up." My stomach was in knots all the way to the hospital. Something had happened to mom and it wasn't good, I could feel it in my gut.

"Rachael!" Dad's voice called down the hall as I ran into the Emergency Room.

"Dad! What happened, where's mom? Is she okay?" I asked flinging myself into my father's arms.

"She was hit by a car while processing a scene on the Strip," he explained as we walked toward the lifts. My head was starting to get dizzy; he looked paler than I'd ever seen him, which terrified me. "She was bleeding internally, so she's in surgery." Stepping out of the lift, we were met by the surgeon; a tall, middle aged man with greying hair.

"Dr. Grissom?" he stepped forward. "Your wife has sustained serious injuries to her insides; she lost a lot of blood." He paused. "I'm sorry…" after that, I didn't hear anything.

Now here we are; standing at my mother's grave. I keep my eyes on the tombstone which reads:

Sara Sidle Grissom

Born: 16 September 1971

Died: 20 April 2018

_Beauty_

I have no idea why my father chose to only put "beauty" on her gave stone; maybe one day I'll ask him. As he pulls on my hand, we start moving away from the gravesite. I pull my hand away; I'm not ready to leave her yet. He gives me a look of understanding and says, "I'll be waiting by the car." I watch him walk away, even his walk is sad. For a while I say nothing, but just star at the casket in front of me. This whole week has been a blur of lawyers, meetings, school, and dance classes, anything to keep myself occupied. I haven't allowed myself to feel, instead I remain numb; it's easier this way. No feeling, no pain. As I read the tombstone for the millionth time, I finally speak, but I can only think of one word, "Mamma".

Aunt Catherine is telling Dad that she and Lindsey want to stay with us for a while. Lindsey is telling me something as well, but I can barely hear her. I excuse myself and head for my room. Once inside I lock the door and reach for my _Creative Zen_ player. Climbing into my closet, something I've done since I was a child when I was upset or scared. My closet looks more lived in that my room, with pillows and blankets; tissues and a small lamp, I shut out the world. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I pull a razor blade out from underneath my pillow. Starting the music, I lift up my pant leg and slowly slide the razor across my skin. As the words of the song, "Without You" fill my ears and red drops appear; I finally allow myself to feel again and the tears that I have been holding all week, come rushing out.

It's been two months since we buried my mom. Dad and I are both in counselling and dad has stepped down from his position as a CSI supervisor, but I don't think any of it is helping; every day he slips further away from me. I've already lost my mother, how do I explain to him that without him, I die.


End file.
